Pandora's Box
by TJAlex
Summary: Many years from now, Charlotte comes back to Drovers.  This was a little blurb inspired by a wallpaper made by a friend which instantly had this story spinning in my head so thanks to my muse, you know who you are :


_Usual disclaimer – I don't own anyone or anything, it's all Posie's and C9's .. sigh .. _

**Pandora's Box**

Charlotte pushed her thick swathe of hair back with one trembling hand, tucking it neatly behind her ear.

She took a deep breath and then gently expelled the air with a soft puff, the small movement stirring the thick dust that coated every surface around her.

Her throat tightened and she was forced to swallow hard, she could feel the hot tears threatening and every instinct inside screamed at her to run, get up and run, run away. But how do you run away from memories, from grief, from loss?

She slowly reached out to the travelling trunk in front of her, it was antique – her grandmother's, or perhaps even her grandmother's grandmothers. It had a collection of peeling stickers placed haphazardly across the top, handwritten destinations in fine old ink that was faded to a barely legible scrawl on most of them. The old brass locks were speckled with rust, and the leather strapping was stiff with age. It was stencilled with names – the most recent being Charlotte Mcleod. She could see her mother's name there too, Claire Louise Mcleod, and even more faintly, barely discernible now, was Prudence Mcleod.

This was her past, this was her heritage, this was who she was.

Somehow, that terrified her. She had been shaped by so many influences, her life had drifted away in different directions like flotsam in a raging river, but in her heart, she knew, this was the core of her being. This was home.

She fearfully lifted the top and instantly the smell of jasmine invaded her senses, she could smell it all around. She closed her eyes instinctively and she could feel her mother's arms around her, she had the strangest sensation of being loved and cherished. She opened her eyes, the intense blueness of them shimmering with tears as emotion overwhelmed her and brought a faint flush to her suntanned skin.

Charlotte reached in for the first item – it was a white soft toy, or rather, it was once white, now it was slightly yellowed with age but the feel was so familiar and she gently stroked her hands through the synthetic fur. She brought the bear up to her face and in imitation of a gesture she done automatically as a young child, she rubbed the softness against her cheek. This was her first bear, given to her mum by Alex before she'd even been born.

Alex. Her gut tightened and she wondered whether this was wise – this trunk held more than assorted oddments of a childhood. It held a Pandora's box of memories and emotions that were intrinsically entwined. Alex. Her mother's lover and her first father. A strange combination of words for tagging someone but it was true – he was not her birth father but he'd loved her as his own and after her birth, he was her father. Until she'd left.

As the dust motes played in front her like little notes of a song, she could hear the echoes of a song gently humming in her mind.

"This is your home, and always will be…."

She didn't know where the words came from, she didn't know the song, and yet it was humming in her mind, in her blood. Perhaps her mother had sung it to her, or Tess.

Tess. Another surge of blazing emotion and this time the tears spilled as she gave a slight gasp for breath. She let the tears roll unheeded down her cheeks as she reached for the next item – a gold locket with a 3rd heart shaped frame hanging. She knew what she would find as she opened it but it still required courage to prise open the tiny catch – this was all so much harder than she thought. The latch sprung and she gazed at the tiny images of the beautiful brunette on one side, the smiling blonde on the other. Claire and Tess. Her mother and her mother's sister. She gently turned the third hanging frame over. A vivacious looking blonde with tumbling curls. Jodi. The third sister.

Charlotte put a fisted hand to her chest where the physical ache was and gently rubbed at the tightness. Placing the locket next to the bear on the wooden floorboards next to her she reached in for another item – this one had the sobs catching in her throat. It was a framed photo of the 3 sisters again. They were hanging over a white wooden fence, the quintessential Australian farm girls – Claire with her Akubra as always. In the background was the imposing frontage of Drovers Run. This photo epitomised everything that Charlotte had once been. A Mcleod. On Drovers Run. Family. A bond between women that was unbreakable.

Or was it? Why was she the only one here? She gave into the tearing sobs and wept as the thoughts raced through her mind. Claire – gone, killed in a tragic and senseless accident when Charlotte was still a baby. Tess – living in the plains of Argentina, so far away from this, her birthplace. Jodi. Well, they didn't even know where Jodi was from one year to the next. Forced to live in Witness Protection with her husband Matt, Jodi had come home once, one Christmas years and years ago when Charlotte was about 6 years old.

This was her **family**, her blood, her kin .. and she hadn't seen any of them for almost 20 years, nor would she for many more, maybe never. Certainly, her mother was gone and today Charlotte would visit her grave for the first time, perhaps that would give her some closure. She doubted it.

Placing the photo with the other assembled items on the floor, she reached in to the trunk and took out a wooden building block with the letter 'C' embossed in shiny white lettering on the painted blue wood. Her thoughts tumbled as if they were matching blocks – her childhood seemed so many years ago and such a faint memory of this place, but somehow all the sights and sounds and smells of Drovers Run were ingrained in the very essence of her being. She smiled slightly as she placed the block on the floor – she had been so proud when she had learned that the 'C' was for Charlotte and despite all the gentle pleading from Tess, Alex, Jodi, Stevie, and Kate she had seldom let the little building block out her sight in those early years. Until she'd left.

Next to be drawn out the trunk was a white soft blanket – a baby's blanket. It was also yellowed slightly with age, the soft satin edging starting to fray and tear. She automatically lifted it to her nose and breathed deeply. As the old familiar scent faintly lingered on the air, she felt new tears brim. She had been wrapped in this blanket many times as a baby, it had been with her with she travelled to the city with Claire and Alex as a young baby, it had been with her during the abortive kidnap attempt, it had been with her when Tess first took her to live with Peter, her biological father. This blanket had been through a lot with her.

Lastly, she took the star shaped pillow out – bright pink, fun and quirky, this had been a gift from Tess. She smiled – Tess had given her this during one of her first visits back to Drovers and somehow it had always stayed here, never going back with her on her return to the Johnson household, this was a Drovers pillow, a Drovers memory.

She quietly placed everything back in the ancient case. Somehow, the tears, the absolute grief and sense of loss had strengthened her resolve. It was time.

Time to go downstairs and do what she'd come to do. Claim her inheritance. Drovers was her mother's land, her aunts land, Drovers was hers. Through the passage of years, Stevie, her mum's best friend had bought a portion of Drovers. After Stevie married Alex, she'd given her portion over to Charlotte's trust – there'd been a huge row, of which Charlotte knew few details. Something to do with a Mcleod cousin who'd swept in and during a fierce drought had made a series of mistakes that ruined Drovers, brought it to the brink of collapse. Stevie had left, Tess was in Argentina and Jodi was out of reach – the farm had been leased out and for many years it had wandered through the custodial hands of lessees and farm managers.

It was time to get Mcleods back on Drovers. It was time to give back to the land. She smiled – she'd have help. Claire Ruth Mcleod-Ryan and Anna Megan Mcleod-Bosnich were downstairs waiting for her in the study. She and her cousins were back to stay, and in true Drovers tradition, had hired on 3 other woman to help them.

Mcleod's on Drovers.

As she closed the trunk, her eye caught the photo of Claire, Tess and Jodi once more – she could almost swear she could see a twinkle in their eyes that hadn't been there before.


End file.
